


Chasing Providence

by battleshidge (Amiria_Raven)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Codenames, Everyone's here really, F/M, Government Conspiracy, Queen-to-be Allura, Semi Slow Burn, Slight violence in later chapters, Wrong Number AU, blade of marmora, codenames for the blades that is, it all begins with underwear, kallura
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-22
Updated: 2018-04-09
Packaged: 2018-12-18 19:43:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11881494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amiria_Raven/pseuds/battleshidge
Summary: In which Keith texts the wrong number and unknowingly breaches national security.





	1. Tempting Fate

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! 
> 
> This is a Kallura Wrong Number AU that's been in my head for several months (since [Priya's](http://longhairpidge.tumblr.com) birthday whoops) but...I finally started it. Please read the tags for a little more information! 
> 
> The summary is subject to change, if I decide to give a little more insight there at a later date.
> 
> AND HERE WE GO. Before I just ramble forever.

 

Keith glared around his room, running a hand through his messy hair. His room was not as he had left it, and he knew that Shiro was to blame. His roommate and best friend had a habit of cleaning and organizing, and even Keith’s bedroom was no exception. The only problem was that he didn’t have the  _ time _ for this. He had to get to his second--well, now his  _ only _ \--job, and he needed to be there in ten minutes. His hair was still damp from his quick shower, and he held his towel loosely at his waist while he stared around the room.

With a noise that was more like a growl than anything, he moved to his desk and snatched up his phone, swiping to unlock it and searching for Shiro’s contact info. He clicked on it, started his text, and then realized he was still in the  _ To:  _ bar. He fixed it and then continued.

_[17:19]_ **Shiro. Where the f u c k are my underwear?**

Keith smashed send and grabbed his work shirt out of his closet. At least  _ that _ was in a logical place. And his pants were already on his bed, but he wasn’t about to go anywhere without his boxers.  _ Where the fuck did Shiro put his underwear _ ?

“You’d better answer my text,” he muttered to himself, tugging the shirt over his head. “So help me, if I have to dump every drawer out to find them, or dump the laundry baskets across the entire living room,  _ I will _ .”

That...was actually probably a good place to look. Shiro had probably done the laundry, and sometimes everything was still in the laundry room, folded on top of the dryer since it was a frontloader. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d done something like that and didn’t pass on the news to Keith. Granted, Shiro was usually excellent about communication, but he couldn’t really answer texts when he was at work. He worked security or something so texting probably wasn’t the best idea when he was on the job.

When Keith reached the laundry room he found, to his dismay, that there were no boxers in sight. Not even a pair of Shiro’s that he would have borrowed if absolutely necessary, hygiene be damned. They would’ve already been washed, after all.

“Dammit,” he groused, picking through the laundry baskets.

From the other room, he finally heard the telltale chime of his phone receiving a text. He dropped the muscle shirt in his hands on top of the basket he was rifling through and made his way back to his phone. He opened the message almost instantly.

_[17:21]_ _I’m afraid you have the wrong number, friend. As for your underwear, may I advise checking the top drawer of your dresser, if you have one?_

He stared at the careful sentence and then his eyes trailed up to the number.

It didn’t say  _ Shiro _ .

He’d selected Shiro’s name in his contacts, so why didn’t his conversation have Shiro’s name on the top and the last few messages above his underwear question? It wasn’t like...wait. His eyes trailed over the number again, and he spotted it. When he’d started typing in the top box on accident in his frustration, he must have put the wrong last number back in. It was literally just the  _ last _ number, of all things…!

Keith was mortified. He didn’t know who this person was. 

He had asked a stranger where his  _ underwear _ was.

Stunned, Keith dropped his phone back onto his bed, thinking. He could just apologize and brush it off, or he could ignore it and never,  _ ever _ text that number again. It didn’t feel right to ignore it, though, and as he tried to come up with the solution, he opted to follow the mystery texter’s advice. The only reason his dresser really got used was because Shiro didn’t like when Keith lived from laundry basket to laundry basket. It would make sense.

And lo and behold, there they were. His boxers sat innocently in the top drawer, folded to perfection, and he could have kicked himself. Keith snatched the top pair and dropped his towel, dressing as quickly as he could before gathering his wallet and keys and retrieving his phone once more. He had five minutes until he had to be to work. 

It had only taken five minutes for him to completely embarrass himself via text to a random stranger, and for that random stranger to find his underwear for him in the most obvious of places. 

He wasn’t sure what to do, so as he rushed out the door, he started a reply.

_[17:25]_ **Sorry, messed up the number. Thanks, though.**

Keith shoved his phone unceremoniously into his pocket then and focused on getting to work. It was only a few blocks away, but since he’d already lost his other job today, he couldn’t afford to piss off his boss by being late.

* * *

 

Keith hated his jobs. Well,  _ job _ . The one he still had just happened to be the one with the worse boss, and the one he’d lost was simply because the nice old lady couldn’t afford to keep the extra help and had to lose the newest hand. She’d said she’d call back when they got over the hump, and despite her being the nicest boss he’d ever had, Keith wasn’t going to hold his breath. Prorok, on the other hand...Keith could barely stand the guy.

Pidge swore up and down that Prorok was in on some sort of Galran conspiracy, and Keith had never believed her ideas more than he did tonight. There were a bunch of ugly goons that came into the bar to talk to him on a regular basis, and they didn’t seem to like the way Princess Allura was handling the country before her coronation. She wasn’t getting crowned until her twenty-fifth birthday, as per the wishes of the late King Alfor, so they had a few more months before they would call her the queen. The Anti-Alliance faction was becoming active in their resistance, and Keith wouldn’t have been surprised if his shitty boss was one of them. He personally liked the Voltron Alliance that King Alfor had started nearly three decades previously, in the early years of his reign.

It was the first Alliance army that had ended the Galran occupation of Balmera, a nation of gentle giants that housed many natural resources, and the Galra hadn’t taken kindly to that. And that particular war from twenty years ago had been one of the topics that Prorok and his thug friends had been complaining about tonight.

With a groan, Keith flopped on the couch, staring up at the ceiling.

He’d nearly been punched in the face by one of Prorok’s cronies, he was positive. Sendak looked like he wanted to commit murder when Keith told him that he thought the Alliance was a good thing and that the princess was doing her best. Prorok had diffused the situation by laughing loudly and squeezing Keith’s shoulder a little too tightly, lying that Keith must have already had his one free drink for his shift.

“Fucking assholes,” he groused aloud, digging his phone out. The glare Prorok had gave him when his phone had gone off a few times hadn’t been nice, either, and thinking about him had reminded Keith of the messages he’d yet to read.

He didn’t recognize the number and sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. It wasn’t until he’d opened the conversation and seen that there were previous messages that Keith realized it was the stranger he’d asked about his underwear almost nine hours ago.

_ [01:03] You’re very welcome! _

_ [01:03] I take it you found your underwear, then? The top drawer is always an excellent option. _

The messages had only been sent about an hour ago. Whoever the stranger was, they must have been busy since his last message. But he was still confused. Why had they decided to respond? If it was him, he probably would have just left it and ignored the awkwardness forever. He would’ve deleted the number from his phone and moved on if some random person had asked him where their underwear was.

And yet, this person  _ hadn’t _ .

Somehow, Keith felt compelled to respond.

_[01:58]_ **Yes, I found them. Sorry again.**

He allowed the phone to fall from his fingers as he sank into the cushions of the couch, reaching for the remote. Keith already knew from experience that he wouldn’t like whatever was on at this time of morning, but he still tried anyway. He’d probably end up retreating to his bedroom and watching Netflix for a couple of hours until he passed out, and then he’d worry about finding a new job to replace the one he’d lost today. Well, since it was almost two in the morning, he supposed it was  _ yesterday _ .

_ Two in the morning _ . Shit. And he’d just texted that random stranger back. What if they were asleep? What if he woke them up? They  _ had _ only texted him an hour prior, but that didn’t mean much. When it came to the wee hours of the morning, time seemed inconsequential. He could be fully coherent one moment and dead asleep ten minutes later.

Keith groaned. He was too fed up to deal with this right now, and he already didn’t like the prospects of late night television, just based on the crappy sitcom reruns that had started immediately when the screen had lit up. He clicked it off and laboriously pushed himself to his feet, taking his phone with him as he returned to his room.

Maybe he’d watch some low budget sci-fi movie until he fell asleep, or something.

He’d just shucked his clothes off and clambered into bed in his boxers, a movie already starting on his laptop, when his phone chimed from the nightstand. He paused and stared at it for a moment, and then reached to check the message.

It was from the stranger.

_[02:01]_ _I’m glad! And it really was no problem!_

He didn’t know what this person’s deal was, but he decided that he could avoid replying now. His courtesy had been played out, and he wasn’t obligated to reply anymore.

Keith put his phone aside and prepared to watch his movie.

* * *

 

Allura had just left a meeting with her advisors and Coran and returned to her office when her phone let off the cute jingle that told her she’d received a text message. It was her personal line, too. Either Coran had decided there was something more she needed to know, or one of her few good friends had decided to check in. Shay was the most common culprit, and she was actually coming to Altea as a Balmeran dignitary in a few short weeks, so it made sense for it to be her.

But...it wasn’t.

The princess stared blankly at the number she didn’t recognize, but she was even more stunned by the contents of the message.

_[17:19]_ **Shiro. Where the f u c k are my underwear?**

Obviously, whoever had texted her had intended to text  _ Shiro _ , whoever that was. Either that, or they wanted to send an ominous message from a number she didn’t know, which would mean that she had to report that number to her security detail and have them track it down to ensure that the owner didn’t pose a threat to Altea or the crown. But...there was something that seemed so innocent about it that Allura hesitated, even though she could press a button and bring Kolivan, the head of the Blade of Marmora, to her office immediately.

Instead, she found herself typing out a response, against her much better judgment.

She sent it before she could think better, and then moved to the paperwork she had to review. Despite still being only the princess, Allura had all the duties of a queen and, in just a few months’ time, would officially take the title. The delay, as per her father’s request, was more a formality. She wasn’t sure if that’s what he had intended, but she was respecting his wishes despite her own belief that taking the throne in title as well as duty would be a better option.

Logically, Allura knew she should report the number. It could be a serious breach of national security for some unknown person to have the personal line of the queen-to-be, especially if they happened to be a member of the Anti-Alliance faction. She swallowed that worry, shaking her head. People texted wrong numbers all the time.

... _ Wait. _ Did the person wrongly texted usually text  _ back _ ?

Allura sighed, running a hand through her hair. It was too late to worry about that now, so she set to re-reading the document in front of her. In her initial perusal she hadn’t taken any information in with that text on her mind, so she tried to pull herself back into work. 

The princess succeeded, completely missing the sound of a return message as she pulled the next file over. She had a lot of work to do for Shay’s stay in Altea, after all, which included security and lodgings and publicity and whatever else came up. That, combined with recent reports of the Anti-Alliance increasing their activity, made for a busy day.

When she finally saw the return message, it was late. So late, in fact, it was early, and she knew that Coran would scold her if he found out that she’d returned to work after he’d pulled her away for dinner. At least she was in the confines of her personal study now instead of her office, and she slipped easily across the hall to her room. She couldn’t help it, though--she typed out another message before she could think better of it.

After staring blankly at her phone for a few more minutes, wondering why in all of Altea she hadn’t reported the number to the Blade yet. With a sigh, she shook the thought away. She’d worry about that when something suspicious was said, she supposed. Wrong numbers happened, after all, and it wouldn’t be fair to immediately put everyone under surveillance for that.

That decided, Allura went through her nightly routine, showering and drying her hair before taking the time to brush it. It was always a process, but it helped her to wind down after a long day. She hummed as she worked, belatedly recognizing the notes of an old lullaby her mother used to sing her when she was younger, and she smiled to herself, finishing her routine by braiding her hair.

Her plait was nearly complete when she heard her phone chime from her nightstand across the room, and she furrowed her brow. 

It was past two in the morning now. Who would be texting her?

She tied off her braid and made her way to her bed, perching on the edge and reaching for her phone. And unknown number that she was starting to recognize came up, and she read the stranger’s reply.

_[01:58]_ **Yes, I found them. Sorry again.**

Amused and stifling a yawn, Allura typed out one more message. She left it a little open. The mysterious person could reply if they desired, or she could be left hanging. Either way, she would be satisfied.

With that, she tumbled into bed. 

She was acting queen, after all, and she would need to be attending to her duties in five or six hours.

* * *

 

It was nearly a week later, and the mysterious texting stranger had all but slipped her mind, especially in light of her current company.

Allura steepled her fingers, frowning down at the report that Kolivan had placed in front of her. Coran had fallen silent, and they both looked to her for her orders. The silence, while warranted, was still unnerving.

“Is this all the information we have?” she finally asked, tapping the file. “We only know that the Anti-Alliance is going to make a move on the day of Shay’s arrival, and a rough location of that. We don’t have any idea of their numbers, the kinds of weapons or means they plan to use, or even their aim?”

“My inside man was compromised,” Kolivan responded stiffly. “He was a new recruit, Your Highness, and made a rookie mistake.”

At his tone, Allura knew that the so-called  _ rookie mistake _ had cost the man his life. Her frown only deepened this time, though her frustration was somewhat cooled. It never settled well when she learned that one of her men had paid the price to get information, even if there was nothing she could have done to prevent it.

“See that the usual procedures are followed,” she intoned carefully, moderating her tone. She could not show weakness, even if she grieved for the Blade she didn’t know. “If you learn anything else, inform me immediately.”

“As always, Princess,” Kolivan bowed before turning to make an exit. 

“Coran?” She worried her lower lip a little.

“Yes, Princess?” 

“Don’t keep any information from me this time.”

The last time the Anti-Alliance had planned an attack, Coran had handled everything behind the scenes and Allura hadn’t learned of it until that night when Coran and Kolivan came to give her a report. In the previous attack, the Anti-Alliance had targeted Commander Sam Holt, one of Altea’s leading communications experts that currently served as a foreign affairs coordinator, and had nearly succeeded. Thankfully, Kolivan’s Blade of Marmora had been able to thwart the effort, and Commander Holt had returned home with just a few bumps and bruises.

The only reason she knew about it beforehand this time was probably because it concerned one of their Balmeran allies. And, not only was Shay an important Balmeran representative, but she was also a dear friend.

Allura was determined to make sure no ill befell her while she was in Altea.

“Of course, Princess,” the trusted advisor’s voice broke into her thoughts. “I’ll let you know anything new within three ticks of learning it myself!” He puffed out his chest. “That’s even faster than you can say  _ the yowling yalmor yearns for yesterday _ !”

She didn’t even want to ask.

“Promise me,” she pressed instead, looking imploringly to Coran. “Promise that you’ll keep nothing about this situation from me.”

“I swear it,” he nodded solemnly. Allura let out a breath she hadn’t been aware of holding, and then Coran forged onward with a smile. “I’ll go fetch some tea now, shall I? There’s more paperwork to be done, but you could do with a relaxing drink, I’m sure!”

He seemed to take her noncommittal noise as enough of an answer and departed, leaving Allura alone in the office. For a moment, she indulged in the lull, allowing herself to sink deeper into the desk chair and breathe. Once she had relaxed, even just a little, she found herself reaching for her personal phone, navigating to Shay’s contact information.

_ [08:36] AAa pos @ Juniberry & Garrison Ave 0715 _

She hated trying to send cryptic messages, especially on her private line, but she figured that Shay would understand.  _ Anti-Alliance activity possible at the corner of Juniberry Street and Garrison Avenue on July 15th _ \--the day that Shay was due to arrive.

She drummed her fingers on the edge of the desk, frowning. She didn’t like the fact that the Anti-Alliance knew when Shay was  _ arriving _ , because the official welcome ceremony wasn’t until the next day. And the area where the activity was supposed to occur was directly on the route that Shay would be taking, so alternative measures would have to be devised. They’d have to take a different route to get to the state buildings in the center of the city, of course, and a team would probably need to be sent to neutralize the members of the Anti-Alliance at the planned scene of attack. Allura groaned softly and rubbed her temples.

The phone buzzed on the desk, and she reached to see Shay’s reply.

_[08:38]_ **Hi…?**

If a single text could stop a heartbeat, Allura was positive that this one did. Her eyes shot up to the name at the top of this conversation and she saw the word  _ Stranger _ staring back at her.

_ Why _ had she saved the underwear person’s number? She could have just deleted it, ignored it, forgotten all about it, but she had very deliberately added them as a contact and given them the name  _ Stranger _ in her address book. And  _ Stranger _ just so happened to fall right under  _ Shay _ because she had very few personal contacts.

“ _ Quiznak _ ,” she muttered to herself, fumbling her phone in her hands.

_[08:39]_ _Oh, sorry! I must have included you by accident. It’s for a girls’ night out with my friends!_

She sent the message in a hurry before she could think better of it, then cursed herself and reached for the landline phone on her desk, pressing the four. On the second ring, the person she was looking for answered.

“Ulaz speaking.”

“Good,” she breathed out. Before he could ask, she forged onward. “Ulaz, this is Princess Allura. I have a special assignment for you, and I need you to add a number to our secure communication lines, at least temporarily. When are you available?”

“I can be there in five minutes.”

“Perfect.”

The line clicked, and Allura nearly slammed the receiver down, worrying at her lip. 

This time, it had been her fault for texting the wrong number, but the unfortunate stranger at the other end of the line would have to bear the scrutiny. Ulaz was one of her best, and sending him to observe the owner of the number was probably a better course of action than ignoring it this time. For now, though, she had to remain as calm as she possibly could, pray that the stranger didn’t understand the message and that they weren’t Anti-Alliance, and actually send another version of the same message to the intended recipient. She still had to warn Shay, after all.

_ Breathe _ , she told herself. 

A single text would  _ not _ be enough to ruin all of her hard work. 


	2. Roll the Dice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was going to be a long day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY.
> 
> Yeah, I still exist. Sort of. Sorry for the delay in updates! Long story short: I started drowning in class and work, moved, misplaced the notebook with the outline, may have carpal tunnel, and put off looking for said outline notebook when a few people asked/told me to update.
> 
> Probably a little petty, but this is free fiction, so I felt justified haha.
> 
> Anyway, on with the show!

 

After she had called for Ulaz, Allura quickly called Coran on his personal cell, praying for an answer and thankfully getting one.

“Yes, Princess?” he practically chirped. “I’m just arriving to the kitchens now to ask for some tea. Was there something you needed?”

“Ah, yes, Coran,” she swallowed, managing to mask her slight nervousness. “Could you ask them to prepare a light breakfast and send it up?”

“Why, I’ll wait for it and bring it up myself, Allura!” he offered. She knew the lilting tone he kept using was meant to raise her spirits after this morning, when he and Kolivan had informed her of the Anti-Alliance plans for Shay’s arrival. She appreciated it, but more than that, she appreciated that he was willing to give her space to think it over. “Or do you need me back up there sooner?”

“Oh, you’re quite alright. You don’t have to trouble yourself, but do as you see fit. I need a few minutes to get through this report again, anyway.”

“Don’t overwork yourself, Princess,” Coran took his lecturing tone, just slightly. “The day has only just begun, after all.”

“I will keep that in mind, Coran.”

He then bid her farewell, and Allura had a few minutes to think while she waited for Ulaz. She had to think of what exactly she would tell him about the situation. Did she open with the fact that there was a stranger that accidentally texted her a week ago and that she’d texted back, or did she omit that detail? Perhaps opening with what she wanted, which was for him to monitor  _ Stranger _ for suspicious activity, would be better, and then she could give more details after that.

She ran a hand through her unruly hair and stood from her chair, beginning to pace back and forth until she heard the expected knock at her door. Ulaz was true to his word and had arrived no more than five minutes after she had called him, but it was still plenty of time for her to work herself into a slight panic. 

She took a deep breath as Ulaz stood at attention on the other side of her desk while she paced. To perhaps anyone else, his face betrayed no emotion, as was only fitting of her Blades, but she could see the slight concern and confusion in his eyes. She knew she had to be calm and explain, so she exhaled slowly and planted her feet, facing him directly across the table.

“Princess?” he finally asked, quirking a slim brow.

“Ulaz, I have a task for you that is to be kept strictly between the two of us. Am I understood?”

His brow remained high, and he gave a curt nod.

“The number I had you add to our secure lines. I need you to find out who it belongs to and monitor them for a few days for suspicious activity,” she slipped into her seat, though Ulaz stayed standing. “It was supposedly a wrong number from a few days ago and I thought little of it. However, I accidentally sent them a coded message about possible Anti-Alliance activity meant for Shay and I feel that caution now is the best approach.”

“Coran and Kolivan would likely scold you for keeping this wrong number a secret, Princess,” Ulaz observed carefully. “Was there any reason you didn’t inform your security?”

“It was a text about misplaced underwear meant for a ‘Shiro’,” she felt herself flushing a little and glanced to her phone so she wouldn’t be looking at Ulaz directly. “I...ended up advising them to look in their dresser, against my better judgement, and they thanked me later. It was a relatively mundane exchange, and it just didn’t seem right to put someone under scrutiny for accidentally texting a stranger.”

“To a Shiro, you said?” Ulaz asked, curious. Allura nodded, and Ulaz hummed under his breath. “I see. Well, I will see what I can find out about the owner of this number, Princess, and unless I find something suspicious that needs immediate action, I will keep it to myself.”

Allura breathed a sigh of relief.

“Thank you, Ulaz. I’m counting on you.”

He offered her a short bow before he exited the room, and Allura leaned back in her chair. If Ulaz was handling it, she had complete faith that things would turn out well. He was one of the Blades’ best operatives, after all. And now that her panic had subsided, at least a little, she was able to reach for her phone. 

This time she made absolutely sure that the name above her message read  _ Shay _ before she typed out the same coded message, then she sat her phone aside once more and pulled Kolivan’s report back in front of her. 

Reading it earlier that morning had been hard enough as dread filled her with ever word, but now she had to find out how to focus now that she had potentially let the Anti-Alliance know that she was in on their plot. Allura didn’t really suspect the wrong number’s owner to be a member, just from the content of their messages, but she couldn’t really be sure when she’d never met them.

“Better safe than sorry,” she assured herself softly, though she did mentally apologize to them for putting them under such scrutiny through little fault of their own.

Once more, the acting queen ran an hand through her hair and focused on the paperwork in front of her. She would scour this document for every little detail about the Anti-Alliance activity that Kolivan’s inside man had gleaned, and she would be sure that the man’s sacrifice would not be in vain.

An accidental text wouldn’t change that, no matter who the recipient was.

* * *

 

Keith stared blankly at his phone once he was free, to find the odd stranger’s return message and explanation. He didn’t understand why her girls’ night text had to be in code, but maybe that was her way of weeding out stupid friends. Who was he to judge? He had one friend, and that was Shiro.

He shrugged it off and slipped his phone back into his pocket, rolling his shoulders and opting to forget about it for a while. If he didn’t somehow pick up the pace after this break, Prorok was going to have his head.

It didn’t help that a lot of Prorok’s Galran sympathizers were in tonight, whispering in the corner and casting glances around at other patrons. Glaring, more like. And half of those glares, instead of at other patrons, were at Keith himself. If it weren’t for the breaks that were required by law, Keith probably would have been fired the next time Sendak sneered at him when he brought someone at the table a new drink. 

“Idiots,” Keith hissed, leaning his shoulder against the brick wall. He’d slipped out back, into the alley, and was letting the chill air wash over him and cool him off. 

He could have sworn he overheard Sendak badmouthing Princess Allura and the Alliance, again, not to mention tossing in a few comments about the Galaxy Garrison, a small military faction that Shiro had received all of his training at and where he’d met his best friend Matt, but he had to avoid responding. As much as he hated this job, he needed the money.

They’d mentioned Juniberry Boulevard at least one too many times for him to not be suspicious, though, and even as he left work that night, clenching his fists and his jaw so he didn't say or do anything he’d regret, he found their words rattling around his brain.

As he walked home, head down, an errant thought crossed his mind that gave him pause.

Maybe Prorok was one of those Anti-Alliance people the news kept going on about. Keith wouldn’t be surprised, what with all the things his friends and cronies had been saying as of late. They’d always been at least a little disapproving of the acting queen, but lately they’d been a lot more outspoken, to the point that other patrons had started to take notice. In fact, some of the regulars at the bar that Keith had actually liked had stopped coming in, or started coming less frequently, and he’d seen them cast concerned looks over at Prorok’s groupies before.

He’d like to remedy their unease, but Keith was pretty positive that, if he dared try to eject one of the Galra sympathizers from the bar, he’d lose his job over it. It wouldn’t even matter to Prorok that they were making the other customers uncomfortable.

That aside, things had definitely shifted over the last few weeks and he couldn’t put his finger on exactly what it was. The number of Prorok’s awful friends had nearly doubled, it seemed, and there’d been a little less alcohol than usual consumed. Every time he’d approached the table, it felt like their topic shifted, just slightly, and it usually was emphasized by the way that Sendak would throw in a casual remark about Princess Allura, or how Haxus would toss out a jab at the Alliance. It was suspicious and even if they weren’t trying to hide anything, there had been something different about their gathering tonight.

It kind of set Keith on edge.

He thought about texting Shiro, but he knew that his roommate was busy, on some kind of security job, and didn’t want to interrupt his work. So, as any proper adult with a concern would do, he went home, showered, and collapsed on the couch to play video games for a while and forget about his problems.

* * *

 

The news kept boasting about how the official welcome ceremony for the representatives of various members of the Voltron Alliance would be tomorrow afternoon, but Keith didn’t really pay it much attention. He knew there was some sort of summit for the Alliance, and all that really meant for him was a heightened sense of suspicion.

Someone was up to something, especially if all these foreign dignitaries were going to be in town.

And some of them were probably already here, or arriving earlier.  _ That _ thought slowed his stride and made him think. Someone dodged around him on the sidewalk on their skateboard, but he stared at the cracks in the concrete and paid them little heed.

Briefly, Keith entertained the thought of telling the police, or telling  _ someone _ , that he thought there were suspicious people around, but where would that get him? The secret service or something was probably on high alert already, considering all the national security issues that could arise from all these important figures congregating in one place. They probably already suspected something, so Keith’s suspicions wouldn’t really be of any use.

Movement out of the corner of his eye made him jump, just a little, but it was just a tall, lanky guy walking by. He cast Keith a curious glance out of the corner of his eye but said nothing, merely stopping at the crosswalk ahead of Keith. Keith shook himself out of his daze and stepped up to wait as well, some paces behind.

When he glanced up at the street signs, he felt like someone must be messing with him.

Keith rarely walked this way just because it made the trip longer, but he’d deviated today for fresh air. What he hadn’t realized was that this path took him along Juniberry Boulevard. He was at Juniberry and Main now, and the next street to cross his path would be Garrison Avenue before he hit Weblum and turned towards the grocery store.

They’d been insulting the Garrison a lot that night, two, and the Garrison was located along Garrison Avenue.

When the crosswalk light changed, he started across, a new purpose in his steps. Keith rarely went against his gut instinct, so even though his mind was telling him to walk away, he continued forward. He honestly didn’t know what he was expecting, but he had to follow through just to see. He could be overreacting and reading too much into things, but if he was actually right Keith knew he’d never forgive himself for ignoring his gut instinct here.

Conveniently, there was a coffee shop on the corner of Juniberry and Garrison, and one he liked, so Keith ducked inside and sidled up to the line. He glanced out at the corner through the windows before looking back to his phone, scrolling through his abysmally short contacts list until he was hovering over Shiro’s name.

Shiro was at work, he knew. He was some kind of security guard, so maybe he’d have some advice for Keith, if he was available to answer the phone. 

Before he could decide, he heard it.

“What’s  _ he _ doing here?!”

“Hush, he’ll hear you!” a gruff voice quickly shushed the first speaker. “Besides, he’s a local. He’s probably on his way somewhere else.”

A prickle crept up his spine, and without looking he knew they were talking about him. It sounded like Haxus and another of the Galran sympathizers that frequented Prorok’s bar, and Keith felt dread pool in his stomach. He locked his phone momentarily so he could use the black screen as a mirror, and at a table with three other vaguely familiar men, he was able to recognize Haxus.

Something was up. Keith had a bad feeling about it, but he had no idea what to expect.

The line moved then and Keith shoved his phone in his pocket, took a deep breath to calm himself, and stepped forward in the line. He listened to whoever was in front of him order, and then the door chimed and he heard the slow steps of someone else joining the line. He felt almost hyper aware of everything that was going on around him, and he knew that he needed to take a step back and try to think more calmly. The coffee he was about to order would probably help with that, and then he could slip outside and sit at one of the little café tables in front of the shop. His grocery shopping could wait, at least for a little while.

When it was his turn, Keith just ordered a large coffee and paid as the barista handed him the drink and turned to the person behind him. He took a sip and slipped back out, pretending not to notice Haxus and the others, as he slid into a seat at one of the small patio tables in front of the building. He sat so he could see the intersection and the assholes inside, all with just a slight shift, and pulled out his phone to pretend to be busy.

He’d stay until he finished his coffee, he decided, and then he’d leave.

* * *

 

Keith dawdled a little with his drink, but nearly forty minutes later, he started to think he had been foolish. The Galran sympathizers were still inside, but they weren’t being any more suspicious than before...except for the fact that Haxus kept glaring at him whenever Keith happened to peer that way out of the corner of his eye.

With a huff, internally scolding himself, Keith lifted his cup and started to train the lukewarm coffee when a woman opening the door yelped. A loud shout came from inside, and Keith choked on his coffee, slamming the cup down on the table even as the woman stumbled aside. A big hulking guy, one of the suspicious ones, stormed out, the others following.

“Calm down. They must have just changed routes--” Haxus growled at him, seizing his arm.

“Of course they did, and it’s all  _ his _ fault!”

Keith had started rising, whether to interrupt or to leave, he wasn’t sure, but then the speaker shoved him, forcefully, back into the seat.

“Throk!” Haxus hissed, eyes sharp and calculating.

“What have you done?” the one who’d accosted him asked, furious. “What do you know? What have you said?”

“I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about,” Keith threw the man’s hands away and stood, scowling. “Should I? Is there something I should have said to someone?”

“He  _ has _ told someone, then!” the one that Haxus had tried to calm ripped his arm free and came towards where the other, Throk, was fuming. “He knows something. I  _ told _ Prorok that he shouldn’t have hired someone who wasn’t of the same mind!”

“And what mind is that?” Keith put his hands on his hips, his pulse thumping in his ears.

He didn’t give a verbal answer, unless Keith wanted to count the sputter and then the guttural, angry cry that burst forth after it. He lunged and swung his fist at Keith and, cursing, Keith barely managed to sidestep.

For such a big guy, he could really move.

“What the fuck, man?!” he shouted, taking a few steps back to get some distance. “What’s your problem?”

Apparently, with the whole street watching them and the idea in their tiny brains that Keith knew something he shouldn’t, they’d decided talking wasn’t enough. Throk came at him next, aiming to tackle him, and Keith stepped aside and nearly tripped his assailant. 

There wasn’t much time to react when the third man charged him, and he wasn’t able to completely dodge his fist. It was a glancing blow to the arm, but it smarted just the same. And then came the first man again, his fists thrusting forward with more speed than Keith had thought him capable of and now with gleaming with the hint of brass knuckles. Keith cursed again and felt the adrenaline start pumping through his veins.

It had been a while since he’d been in a fight, even at Prorok’s bar, but he knew this dance like the back of his hand. 

Keith managed to dodge the brass knuckles and stepped in to bring his knee into the other man’s gut, effectively winding him, before he had to bounce back and deal with the recovered Throk and the lovely glint of a blade in his fist.

He knocked Throk’s strike wide by slapping the inside of his arm, though the move wasn’t as clean as it could have been. He felt the fabric of his sleeve tear and the slight sting of the metal on skin before he deflected and brought his right fist into Throk’s jaw. Before he could step forward and do anything else, he had to step away from the bare-fisted man’s furious swipe. One thing he had on that particular man, though, was speed, so he managed to duck behind and aim a fierce kick to the back of his knee, making him crumple with a shout.

That victory was short-lived when he took another hit to the stomach, full-force, with brass knuckles. He wheezed around a swear and very nearly lost his coffee and what little breakfast he’d eaten that morning. Keith’s stomach lurched unsteadily. He stayed on his feet until his opponent reared back for another swing and then, voluntarily, slipped into a roll to avoid him. Keith stumbled back to his feet, cursing again but breathing better at last, only to find Haxus coming at him for the first time. 

Haxus was fast. He was faster than the others, and quieter, and carrying two knives instead of Throk’s one. Keith dodged the first swipe easily, but the second snagged a blow to his upper arm that made Haxus grin with some sick sense of triumph. Keith wanted to knock that damned smirk off his face. Instead, he had to watch out as the one with the knuckles lumbered back for more and Haxus danced around looking for his next opening.

Keith cursed internally.

Four against one had never been good odds, but he also hadn’t intended to fight anyone here. And with three of them armed, he wouldn’t be surprised if someone had something a little more hefty, like a gun.

At least, he thought wryly, it sounded faintly like there were sirens sounding. The police might be here soon.

In that moment, Keith realized that it wasn’t just about him. They’d been planning something, and it had to be something that wasn’t quite legal for them to try to take him out for supposedly interfering. He wasn’t quite sure what it was, but now he knew he had to win for sure.

With that in mind, he scowled and stepped forward, barely sidestepping the man’s punch in favor of gaining leverage. The combination of his dodge and their combined momentum gave him the opportunity to grasp the other man’s arm and turn quickly to bodily toss his enemy over his shoulder. He was heavy, almost impossibly heavy, but Keith managed to stay on his feet. He stumbled back in time to nearly run into Throk’s knife again, though, and dropped underneath the swipe to knock Throk’s feet out from under him. Keith heard the knife clatter to the ground. 

Haxus charged again and Keith rolled backwards and to his feet, stepping out of reach temporarily. The beefy man he’d kicked behind the knee was finally starting to get back up, but Keith effectively solved that problem by driving his elbow into the man’s back. Throk had recovered already, and he and Haxus were charging together. With a shout, Keith dove between them, ducking into a roll. He came up almost as quickly, taking down Throk yet again with a hit to the back of his knees. His knife fell once more and this time Keith was able to fling it farther away before he had to dodge Haxus.

The sound of police sirens became more apparent then, though Keith had thought he’d heard them a little earlier, and Haxus took one more swipe, which Keith managed to deflect, before cursing and spitting in his direction.

“This isn’t over,  _ Keith _ ,” Haxus hissed, and without bothering to help any of his cronies up, he ducked into the alley next to the coffee shop and ran. Keith thought about chasing him down but couldn’t when the big guy with brass knuckles took another swing at him. It grazed the spot on his arm where Haxus had cut him and he cursed before yet again kneeing the man in the stomach.

He teetered and fell just as the flashing lights appeared, and Keith stumbled back to the chair he’d been sitting in previously and flopped down, grabbing a napkin and pressing it to his arm with a curse.

The three remaining assailants weren’t getting back up. Throk had smacked his face pretty good on the sidewalk the second time he went down and was groaning and clutching his face, whereas the man with brass knuckles was still winded. Keith had probably hit the first man a little too hard, but he was sprawled on his front, unconscious, and Keith didn’t really care.

After all, they’d attacked him first. He was just defending himself.

“There goes my job,” Keith grumbled the realization under his breath even as the police pulled up and poured out of two separate squad cars. When they told him to put his hands up, he did, and let out a long sigh as he felt all the little aches slowly start to come back.

This was going to be a long day.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, hit me up on tumblr at [battleshidge](http://battleshidge.tumblr.com) or on my main at [panda013](http://panda013.tumblr.com)!
> 
> Anyway, I did recently rediscover this notebook and decided to try to get out a second chapter. I'm trying to get back into writing a little more, but Netflix is so, so tempting when my wrist is hurting lol.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> As always, hit me up on tumblr at [battleshidge](http://battleshidge.tumblr.com) or on my main at [panda013](http://panda013.tumblr.com)!


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